Conversations
by Jean Hicks
Summary: A series of conversations between Mycroft and Sherlock as children. Assumes Mycroft is at least 10 years older, but that's not really important. Short, simple, and, if all went well, quite sweet. Fluff. Read, review, and enjoy!


**AN: **Conversations between Sherlock and Mycroft. Short, simple, and, hopefully, sweet. Ready, review & enjoy!

* * *

"Myc, why is the sky blue?"

"Because most of the sunlight is absorbed by the atmosphere and the blue wavelengths are reflected for us to see."

"That's neat."

"Isn't it?"

* * *

"I think we should see other people."

He's sitting on the window, kicking his feet in the air.

"What?"

"That's what you told her, what does that mean, Mycroft? Aren't we always seeing other people?"

"Yes, Sherlock, of course we are."

"Then what did it mean? It didn't make any sense."

"Why were you eavesdropping?"

"Why won't you just answer the question?"

"It means I don't fancy her anymore, Sherlock."

Mycroft runs a hand through his hair.

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed."

* * *

"Myc, will you play with me?"

"I've got to work on my schoolwork now, Sherlock."

"Maybe when you're done, then? Maybe we can play pirates."

"When I'm finished. Yes, we can play pirates."

"You're not going to be finished for a while are you?"

"Sherlock, I need to finish this essay. Can you please find something else to do?"

"Can I look at your… OH!"

A globe from the second bookshelf crashes to the floor.

"SHERLOCK! Get out of my bloody room… now!"

* * *

"One of these days, I'm going to get married."

"Are you?"

"No. Probably not."

"It seems like an awful lot of trouble."

"Mummy and Father get by all right."

"Yes, Mycroft, but we're _different_."

* * *

"Look at this!"

"Sherlock, what on Earth have you… oh Christ is that a bird?"

"It's a starling. It ran into my bedroom window, so I went down to the garden and…"

"Sherlock you can't just…"

"But... I was curious. It was already dead, Mycroft. I didn't hurt him."

"I know that…. Oh come on now, Sherlock, please don't cry."

"I don't understand why you're cross with me."

"I'm not cross, Sherlock."

"You only use that voice when you're cross."

"I promise I'm not cross. I just think you shouldn't bring dead things into the house."

"Oh."

* * *

"Who's done this to you, Sherlock?"

"No one."

"There's blood on your face and on your shirt, you didn't put it there yourself did you?"

"No…"

"Chin up, Sherlock. Let me clean up your nose."

"Can't you just bugger off?"

"Sherlock!"

Fat tears well in the corners of Sherlock's eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"They're just so _mean_."

He pulls his brother in against his chest.

"I know, Sherlock. I know."

* * *

"I've finished the book you gave me to read to Redbeard."

"Already? And did he enjoy it?"

"Yes. I think. He slept through a lot of it."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes!"

Mycroft smiles.

"Will you tell me more stories about pirates?"

"Of course."

* * *

"I'll be leaving for university in the fall."

"I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you going to be okay here, on your own?"

"Yes. I've still got Mummy and Father and Redbeard, don't I?"

"Yes, of course… but, I don't know… I just…"

"We're different."

"Exactly."

"Will you come home for holidays?"

"Any chance I can."

* * *

"It's three in the morning, Sherlock, does Mummy know you're on the phone?"

"No."

"Why are you calling?"

"I have a question."

Mycroft sighs through the phone. "Okay…"

"Why do protons in the nucleus not fly apart, because they have the same charge, they shouldn't be able to sit so close together."

"It's called the strong nuclear force."

"Oh."

Extended silence.

"I can mail you a book from the library if you'd like."

"Really!?"

* * *

"I didn't mean to break it!"

"I know, Sherlock, just calm down."

"Mycroft, Father is going to be so angry."

"No he won't, he knows what accidents are."

"I'm so sorry!"

"I know. We'll piece it back together. I promise."

"Will you help me?"

"Yes, Sherlock, of course I will, but you're going to have to tell Father."

Sherlock's lower lip wobbles.

"It's all right Sherlock. You know he'll understand."

Sherlock nods and sniffs.

"Okay then. Let me go get the glue."

* * *

"Sherlock! SHERLOCK!?"

A small voice.

"Mycroft!"

"Christ…. Mum, I've found him!"

"Mycroft!"

He's crying from a concrete drainage pipe that's been blocked by some scrap and an upturned trolley.

"They told me…"

Mycroft is pulling things away from the pipe and tossing them across the field.

"They told me I could help them and then…"

Sherlock scrambles out of the pipe as soon as there's a big enough space to do so, barreling into his brother.

"Are you hurt?"

He grasps the shaking boy and pulls him tight.

"Mycroft…"

"Are you hurt, Sherlock?"

"I'm just scared."

"I'll kill them." Mycroft says as he tucks his nose into Sherlock's hair. "I'll kill them all."

* * *

"Check mate."

"Indeed."

"I'll box up the game."

"Sherlock, I'm sorry I was cross with you earlier."

"Why?"

"I just had work I needed to do, and I got cross."

"No, why are you sorry?"

"Because it's not very nice."

"You're my brother."

"Yes but that's not excuse for me to be cross."

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"You're my _brother_." As if this explains everything.

It does.

* * *

Sherlock looks up at his brother. Mycroft looks down his nose.

"Would I lie to you?"

"No."

* * *

"Myc, when we're older, will we still be friends?"

"Yes."

"No matter what?"

"Yes, Sherlock."

He puts the book down on the bed and pulls the blanket up around his brother's shoulders.

"Even if I do something really bad?"

"Are you going to do something bad?"

"I can't predict the future."

"Well, then I suppose I have to say this..."

Sherlock waits with wide eyes. Mycroft sits back down on the edge of the bed.

"You are my brother."

He brushes a bit of curly hair out of his brother's eyes.

"You could burn the whole earth. You could fall into the depths of despair… and I will always… always be there to fish you back out again."

"Always?"

"Always. Because you are my brother and I will love you until the end of my days."

"Even when you're cross?"

"Especially when I'm cross."

Sherlock contemplates this.

"Okay then."

"Okay?"

"I love you too, Myc."


End file.
